


Lackluster

by citrinesunset



Category: Torchwood
Genre: BDSM, D/s, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-23
Updated: 2011-06-23
Packaged: 2017-10-20 16:37:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/pseuds/citrinesunset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto knows something is wrong when even the thought of Jack spanking him leaves him bored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lackluster

_Sunday_

  
The thing about being locked in a cage, Ianto found, was that it wasn't nearly as exciting as he'd expected.

  
He wasn't sure _what_ he'd expected. He just knew there wasn't much to do. And he was used to doing things, or at least having them done to him.

  
Instead, Ianto was listening to Jack talk on the phone. He'd never really done that before. Of course not – he normally had other things to focus on and anyway, it seemed rude and intrusive. Especially with all of Jack's top-secret phone calls to UNIT and the prime minister's office and places even Ianto probably didn't know about.

  
But if Jack minded, surely he wouldn't have put Ianto's cage in his office, and he wouldn't have made calls while Ianto sat curled up inside it with nothing to do but listen.

  
Jack was leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the desk. He held the receiver to his ear with one hand and casually examined the fingernails on the other. Ianto only half paid attention to what Jack said – he focused instead on the smooth, relaxed tone of his voice.

  
Even on the phone, Jack exuded confidence. When he was in a good mood, Jack made it easy for someone to feel like they were in good hands.

  
After another minute, Jack said goodbye to the person on the other end and hung up. Then he peered over the side of the desk at Ianto.

  
"That was the police, some new detective that just transferred here. I think he's skeptical of us, doesn't buy the whole 'Special Forces' deal. If I forget, remind me on Monday to talk to Gwen about him."

  
"Yes, sir." Ianto wrapped his arms around his chest.

  
Jack cocked his head. "Are you cold?"

  
Ianto peered at Jack through the bars. He hesitated in answering. He _was_ cold, because he was naked and the office was always chilly, but it wasn't so bad now that he'd gotten used to it and he didn't want to sound like he was complaining.

  
"Ianto," Jack said, some edge creeping into his voice, "come on, now, it's not a hard question."

  
Ianto swallowed. "Not too bad, sir."

  
He squirmed under Jack's gaze. The humiliation – the knowledge that he was naked in a cage and being watched – briefly squashed his boredom.

  
Jack nodded. "All right, good." He pulled his feet off the desk and turned his attention to a file that'd been sitting there for a couple days, awaiting his attention.

  
Ianto squirmed. He'd been sitting cross-legged for a half hour, and his legs were falling asleep. He straightened out as much as he could, lying down on the blanket Jack had considerately put in there for him. The sides of the metal cage rattled as he moved.

  
He was tempted to touch his cock, but he wasn't allowed to do that.

  
He wasn't allowed to touch the plug in his arsehole, either, but he worked his hand behind him, just to feel the protruding base. He wanted to twist it, or work the thick plug in and out of his hole, but he knew better. Of course, if he misbehaved, Jack might take him out to _discipline_ him, but there was a fine line between fun insubordination and bad insubordination, and Ianto could tell Jack wasn't in the mood for either sort today.

  
That was part of what made Ianto so good; he could tell.

  
When Jack spoke again, Ianto jerked and brought his hand around to his chest.

  
"I'm not letting Owen fill out any more requisition forms," Jack said. "There's no way I'm buying some of this stuff he wants. I mean, seriously, do you really think he wants an MP3 player for _work_?"

  
It surprised Ianto that Jack was reviewing the requisition forms. That was usually his job. He suspected Jack was just looking for jobs to do, to occupy the time. It was a quiet Sunday, and if someone didn't technically have to be in the Hub to keep an eye on things, they wouldn't have had to be there at all. And even then, they didn't _really_ have to be there just now. They could have gone to Ianto's flat. Jack's wrist strap would alert him if anything happened.

  
But they'd been waiting to have a day to themselves, and it was Jack's fantasy to keep someone in a cage while he worked. Jack really did like offices, apparently.

  
He didn't often think of Jack having fantasies, maybe because they hadn't engaged in much role-play lately, and maybe because it was so easy to get lost in his own fantasies and forget that he wasn't the only one who had them, or that the whole point of what they did do was that Ianto submitted.

  
And he liked submitting. But when it came down to it, when the novelty wore off, being in a cage was _dull_. There was simply no way around it.

  
"Sir," Ianto said, clearing his throat, "are you sure there isn't anything you want me to do?"

  
"Yeah, like what?"

  
He could never tell when Jack was being deliberately obtuse.

  
"I could help you work. Or. . .I could give you a blow job."

  
Jack let the paper his was reading drop from his fingers and he glanced down at Ianto. "Are you saying you want out of there?"

  
"No. . .not saying that. Just a bit. . .bored, I suppose."

  
Jack frowned. "Tough."

  
Jack was cross with him. That shouldn't have excited him, but it did a little.

  
But after a second, Jack wheeled his chair back from the desk and rolled closer to the cage. "If you're uncomfortable, tell me. Don't beat around it."

  
"I'm not." Ianto sighed. "It's me. I'm sorry. Maybe I'm not in the mood."

  
Ianto hated saying that, because he didn't think "being in the mood" was supposed to factor into whatever he and Jack had, even if, more often than not, it really did. Jack was a considerate lover and master. And if Ianto's submission was for Jack, it was just as much for himself.

  
Jack licked his bottom lip. "Okay. Do you think you could be _put_ in the mood?"

  
Ianto thought about that, about what Jack's suggestion promised. A spanking, maybe. That would be nice.

  
But it didn't excite him as much as it should have.

  
"Not sure, sir."

  
Jack nodded. He appeared to think on the matter, and after a moment, he fished the key out of his pocket. While he unlocked the padlock on the cage door, he said, "Tell you what. It's been a while anyway, so why don't you take a break, stretch your legs, and get some lunch for us? We'll see if you're able to settle down after that."

  
Grateful, Ianto backed out of the cage on hands and knees. He braced his hand on Jack's desk to stand up, paused only a moment to straighten out his legs, and picked up his clothes from where they lay over a chair.

  
Ten minutes later, he was walking across the plass, shamefully relieved to be out in the fresh air. It was nice to feel the sun and breeze on his face.

  
Maybe after he stretched his legs a bit and ate, he'd be in the mood, or more focused, at least.

  
When he returned to the Hub, he cleared a space on Jack's desk and unpacked the takeout containers while Jack hurriedly finished off an email.

  
Once they'd finished eating at Jack's desk, Ianto expected Jack would want him back out of his clothes and into the cage. But instead, Jack sat back and said, "Change of plans. Let's get out of here for a little bit. I'm starting to think there's a good reason why they tell you not to stare at the computer screen for a long time – I need a break."

  
Ianto was a little disappointed – he'd been planning to show Jack just how good he could be. But he'd be lying if he pretended he wasn't a little relieved, too.

  
He nodded and pushed his chair back. "All right. Let me get my coat."

  
 _Monday_

  
Ianto took better care of Jack's clothes than he did his own.

  
It'd be an exaggeration to say he never got tired of it, that he never wanted to do something other than polish Jack's boots or press his shirts.

  
But the truth was, he _almost_ never got tired of it. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was serving Jack, and if it wasn't exciting, it wasn't meant to be. It was satisfying.

  
He collected Jack's dry cleaning while he went out to get lunch for the team. He returned to the Hub with the hangers digging into the fingers of one hand and a pizza box balanced on his other arm. He handed the pizza off to Gwen before he put away Jack's things.

  
None of the others seemed to find it odd that Ianto took care of Jack's clothes. Maybe they took it for granted as part of his and Jack's relationship, or perhaps they assumed it was simply part of being "general support." Maybe he should have cared about what they thought, or what sort of impression they were coming to. But as long as they didn't ask him to take their own things to the dry cleaners, he found himself unconcerned.

  
There were too many things to worry about, and not enough time for them all.

  
At lunch, they all talked about their weekends. Toshiko had been reading some book, and Gwen had gone to visit Rhys's parents. Owen wouldn't say what he'd gotten up to, but there were bags under his eyes.

  
He'd been there for over a year, but Ianto still didn't share much of himself. He'd thought once that he would want to, yet now, it didn't seem so important. Sometimes he felt like his mother's old cat, that only wanted attention when no one was willing to give it.

  
When Gwen asked about his weekend, Ianto said, "It was quiet. I just got some stuff done."

  
And he'd let Jack put him in a cage, but he was pretty sure he messed _that_ up.

  
When the others left that evening, Ianto stayed. While he may not have hidden his dry cleaning runs, he did try to hide this. He couldn't say why. When Toshiko got up from her desk and grabbed her purse, she asked him how late he planned to work, and he told her he was going to go home in fifteen minutes. Then he waited, pretending to finish his work, until he and Jack were alone.

  
Jack came over to his workstation, hands in his pockets, and asked him, "You up for staying here tonight, or do I need to send you home to rest your back?"

  
"I think I'll survive another night in your bed." While Jack walked away, Ianto added, "But your consideration is much appreciated, sir."

  
When he went down to Jack's bedroom, Jack was already there. He began to help Jack undress, biting his lip while he fumbled with his shirt buttons. He let his hands linger on Jack's chest and stomach, feeling the warmth there and the rhythm of Jack's breathing.

  
"Did you have plans for tonight?" Ianto asked.

  
"Maybe," Jack said with a sly smile. "Anything you were hoping for?"

  
Ianto shrugged. "Just glad we can have an early night."

  
He took off Jack's shirt and turned to put it on a hanger. When he turned back around, he saw Jack at their toy chest, pulling out some lengths of rope.

  
"Well, my plan is to tie you up," Jack said with a smile. "'Cause tonight, I think you need to be tied up and at my mercy. Isn't that right?"

  
Ianto smiled. "If you say so, sir."

  
"That's right. Now get undressed. I know a good fuck always helps you focus."

  
 _Tuesday_

  
Owen came to him in the tourist office and said, "Hey, you need an injection."

  
Ianto looked up and blinked. He'd been reading a magazine, and his day had been so boring so far that he was half-asleep. Owen's announcement was the first interesting thing to happen today, but Ianto didn't have a good feeling about it. "Excuse me? What for?"

  
Owen hesitated. "You know that alien that exploded all over the cells?"

  
Ianto did remember. He'd had to do most of the cleaning up.

  
"It looks like it made some of the weevils sick," Owen said.

  
"I don't think I came into contact with it." He paused and asked, "Am I in danger?"

  
"No, no, nothing like that. Just a precaution."

  
Ianto got up with a sigh and followed Owen down to the autopsy bay. He sat on the table and rolled up his sleeve while Owen got the needle ready.

  
After he'd given Ianto the injection, Owen held a piece of gauze to Ianto's arm. While he taped it in place, he looked down and asked, "What happened to your wrist?"

  
Ianto looked at it. Rope marks.

  
"Were you _tied up_?"

  
For a second, Ianto thought about lying. In his mind, that second felt like several minutes in which to consider possible excuses. But in the end, it didn't really matter.

  
"I was, actually. And it's rather private, if you don't mind."

  
Owen looked up at his eyes and then hurriedly looked back down. "Bloody hell. . ." he muttered while he turned away to dispose of the needle.

  
While Ianto got up, Owen said, "I'd think _he'd_ need it more than you.

  
Ianto smirked, though his ears were warm and he thought he might be blushing. "I like to think I find ways to keep him in line," Ianto said before making his retreat.

  
When he got back up to the tourist office, though, he realized, to his surprise, that getting caught wasn't nearly as horrifying as he would have thought.

  
 _Thursday_

  
The milk had gone off. The milk had gone off along with half of the other stuff in the refrigerator. How had that happened? Right, he was barely home anymore.

  
Sometimes, his flat didn't even seem like home. He spent so much of his time at the Hub. His first instinct was that maybe that wasn't a good thing, because he should probably have had a life outside, with friends he went to the pub and rugby matches with. But he also knew that everything was how he wanted it.

  
Most of the time, anyway.

  
He looked out the window at the rain coming down, and contemplated going to the store. He knew he should, especially since he wasn't even supposed to have this day off; he'd had work an extra day last week, so Jack had given him this one to make up for it.

  
He thought, too, that Jack was trying to give him a personal break. Not that he'd wanted one or asked for it. Though maybe he needed one.

  
Maybe he'd had too high of expectations. Maybe the things they did were bound to get less exciting with time. Didn't that happen with all relationships? Wasn't there supposed to be some sort of "seven year itch?"

  
Except he and Jack hadn't been together that long. He wouldn't have even known how to measure how long they'd been together. From the first time they had sex? The first time they tried to have a normal date? When he let Jack give him a collar?

  
In any case, it had not been seven years.

  
Ianto didn't go to the store. Instead, he kicked off his shoes and slouched in front of the TV, deciding to see what kind of programming he usually missed during the afternoon.

  
After three hours, his back ached and his mind felt fuzzy. His hand was cramped around the remote. He looked at his watch; it was almost five, and if anything interesting or dangerous had happened at work, he was pretty sure Jack would have called him.

  
Ianto picked up his mobile off the coffee table. He looked at for a minute, and then typed out a text to Jack.

  
 _How is everything there?_

  
Two minutes later, he got a response.

  
 _Quiet and boring. About to send the others home early._

  
 _Were you planning to come over?_

  
Five minutes went by without a reply. Ianto forced himself to put the mobile back on the table, but he picked it up again as soon as it vibrated.

  
 _Sure,_ the reply said. _Give me 20 mins._

  
 _Should I get myself ready?_

 _  
Yes._

Ianto smiled. He put his mobile back down and turned the TV off.

  
He went straight to the shower, and then brushed his teeth while he kept an eye on his watch. Then he waited, naked, in the living room.

  
When he heard the key in the front door, he sank to his knees on the carpet.

  
Jack came in and froze in the open doorway, looking at Ianto on his knees. Just when Ianto was about to ask him to close the door (his _neighbors_ could walk by, and he _liked_ living here), he closed it and came into the living room.

  
He had a duffle bag with him, which meant he'd brought things to play with. He set it down on the floor to took off his coat.

  
"I see you've been good," he said. He picked up the bag again. "Come on, let's go in the bedroom."

  
Ianto got to his feet and followed.

  
"You know," Jack said, "when you texted me, it made me realize I hadn't given you an inspection lately. Why don't you get on the bed so I can do that?"

  
Ianto nodded. He liked Jack's inspections, even if he realized that they were just another excuse for Jack to touch him.

  
He lay on his back on the bed, with his knees bent and spread. He peered down his chest at Jack, who unzipped the bag he'd brought and produced a bottle of lube.

  
Jack's hands were cold. Ianto resisted the impulse to squirm away when Jack gently squeezed his balls and pushed back his foreskin, exposing the head of his cock.

  
"I know you like this," Jack said. "Your cock and ass get all needy if they don't get attention. Don't they? Tell me."

  
Ianto nodded and licked his lips. "Yes."

  
He was relieved when Jack didn't make him articulate any more than that. Jack touched his thumb to the tip of Ianto's cock; it came away damp with pre-come.

  
Then, Jack lubed a finger and slid it into Ianto's arse. Ianto gasped – it didn't hurt, but Jack's finger was still cool. Jack shushed him.

  
"Jack. . ."

  
"Shhh. No talking. And that's 'sir' to you."

  
"Sorry. Sir."

  
"Shhh."

  
Jack removed his finger and stepped back. He wiped his hand off with a tissue and fetched something else out of the bag. Ianto saw it was the leather paddle, and moaned.

  
"Oh, hush. It's been too long since I've given you a spanking, too."

  
Ianto kept quiet, but rolled his eyes. He didn't mind the paddle, but still thought Jack was a bit extravagant for buying it. Ianto just didn't see the point. Why did they need an expensive leather paddle when Jack's ruler and belt did just fine?

  
"Lift up your legs," Jack said. "And hold your balls unless you want them to get hit."

  
Ianto shivered. He lifted his legs so that his knees were almost to his shoulders, and cupped his genitals in his hands. This position always made him feel vulnerable, maybe even a little embarrassed. Which was certainly why Jack liked it.

  
With his legs up, Ianto couldn't see the paddle or Jack's arm. So it was a surprise when Jack brought the paddle down on his arse. The crack of the leather registered before the force or the growing sting. Ianto inhaled sharply. He didn't even have a chance to let the breath out before Jack brought the paddle down again, forcing it out of him. It hurt, almost enough that he didn't want the next blow to come. But it was always like that, and after a moment, it started to feel good like he always knew it would.

  
If he was totally honest with himself, he could admit that the leather paddle had a different quality than the ruler, or the belt. Maybe not better, but different.

  
Ianto closed his eyes. He could hear the paddle whistle through the air before hitting him with a loud crack. It sounded harsher than it felt. But then, he could also tell Jack wasn't putting his full strength into it.

  
That was okay, because if he was _honest_ , he always overestimated his own pain tolerance at times like these. Later, when the endorphins wore off, he'd be glad Jack was more realistic.

  
It was too rapid to count the number of blows. After a while, they all blended together into a burning sting that was pleasant in the same way a deep massage could be, and he felt pre-come on his fingers. He stayed in position as he heard Jack return the paddle to the bag. His legs were tired and ached, but he didn't move until Jack issued permission.

  
Ianto stretched out on his stomach. He wanted to look at his arse, but he'd do that later. It didn't hurt when he lay like this – it was more numb. He didn't think he wanted to sit, though.

  
He closed his eyes, more satisfied than he'd felt in days.

  
Jack joined him on the bed.

  
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Jack asked. "It hasn't been _that_ long since I gave you a spanking."

  
"Right. Sorry. Thank you for spanking my arse, sir."

  
Jack rubbed his head. "Good boy. Maybe if you keep being good, I'll let you come later."

  
"Not now?"

  
Jack chuckled. "It's still early, and you still need to earn it."

  
Ianto propped himself up on his elbows. "You know, sir, I think maybe you should be stricter with me. Maybe thrash me some more. I can take it."

  
"Oh, yeah?" Jack looked to the side, and seemed to consider it. "I can. But you know we need a breather sometimes, too, right?"

  
"Of course."

  
"Yeah? 'Cause I can tell you're bored, and there's nothing wrong with that, but I'm not going to keep trying to snap you out of it, either. Only so much I can do."

  
Ianto blinked. He hadn't realized his mood was that obvious. Now, when he thought about Jack's actions over the week, about the rope and the spanking, he felt embarrassed. Had it all been to try to please him? He'd never wanted Jack to feel like he had to try.

  
"I wouldn't say I'm. . .bored. Just a weird week, is all." Then he added, "I had fun just now." He realized it was true.

  
And if Jack was okay with them "needing a breather," as he'd put it. . . .

  
"How about I make us some dinner?" Jack asked.

  
"I don't have much here. I was going to go to the store."

  
"Do you have milk?"

  
"No."

  
"Eggs?"

  
"Definitely not."

  
"Potatoes?"

Ianto wrinkled his nose. "I don't think I've ever bought potatoes that didn't come in a box. Come on, Jack, you know me better than this."

  
"All right. What about rice? Canned soup?"

  
"Maybe in the cupboard."

  
Jack smiled. He got the faraway look in his eyes that he got when he told stories. "I can make a meal out of almost anything. It comes in handy. One time, I made a whole dinner out of nothing but rice, water, peas, and hot sauce."

  
Ianto cringed. "Sir?"

  
"Yeah?"

  
"Please don't try it again."

 _Sunday_

Ianto woke up to Jack jiggling his foot.

  
He didn't realize he'd fallen asleep.

  
He was in the cage, in the middle of Jack's office. Jack was crouching by the open door. Ianto started to sit up and almost hit his head on the roof of the cage.

  
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Jack said. "Just wanted to check on you. You've been in there for over an hour."

  
"Oh. _Oh_. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep. I just. . .closed by eyes."

  
He was messing it up again.

  
Jack smiled and rubbed his leg. "What are you sorry for? I wanted you to relax. What else are you supposed to do in there?"

  
Oh. He hadn't thought of it like that, but he supposed Jack had a point. He yawned.

  
"Do you need to stretch? Use the toilet?"

  
Ianto shook his head. "I'm fine."

  
Jack closed the door. Ianto heard the key turn in the padlock.

  
"We'll have you go for a few more minutes, then. It's almost time for dinner."

  
In a week, the cage hadn't gotten any more exciting than it was the first time Ianto tried it. But as he shifted his position, and peered through the bars at Jack, working silently at his desk, Ianto thought maybe it didn't need to be exciting.


End file.
